Dante didn't answer right away.
The voice outside had weight to it calm, controlled, the kind of authority that didn't need to be raised to be obeyed.
It cut through the walls, through the tension, straight into the room like it already owned the space.
Camille watched Dante closely.
The stillness in him wasn't hesitation.
It was recognition.
And that was worse.
"Who is that?" she asked quietly.
Dante's gaze stayed on the door. "Someone I don't ignore."
That wasn't reassuring.
Outside, the man spoke again. "You know I won't ask twice."
A pause.
Then, softer but somehow more dangerous
"Don't make me come in."
Camille's pulse kicked harder.
"You said worse," she murmured. "What's worse than everything we just dealt with?"
Dante finally looked at her.
And for the first time since she met him
There was no control in his answer.
"Consequences."
That word settled deep.
Heavy.
Real.
Camille's throat felt dry. "From who?"
